I'm just gonna shoot straight with you, dear reader. 2020 kicked the wind out of my writing sails. I probably wrote a total of 10k words all year, and those only to meet deadline responsibilities.
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| The Dread Pirate Monkey! |
I could give the plethora of reasons, from losing my full-time job, unemployment money taking six months to kick in, never receiving my first stimulus check, constantly wondering how my wife and I were going to make our house payment and keep the lights on, and (on a positive note) my daughter giving birth to my first grandchild, my little Monkey, Westley (with a 't' like the Dread Pirate).
So, between fighting depression and worry and keeping busy as a doting grand-Monkey, writing really took a back seat this year in my priorities.
But, really, all those are just excuses.
Now, I know, after a year like that, I'm going to be the last person to beat myself up. From what I've seen among my writer friends and acquaintances, I'm not alone in my production falling by the wayside. This year has really kicked a lot of our butts.
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| Listen to the Governator. |
And as my dear friend and cheerleader, Judy Black (still the pixie of pulp in my eyes) posts frequently on her Facebook page, "Your reminder that pretty much everyone is stressed out right now. Please be kind to yourself."
I could moan about how little I got done last year. I could play the hurts and disappointments over and over again in my mind. I could make all kinds of unrealistic expectations about how 2021 is going to be pure, unfiltered gangbusters for my word count --
But I won't.
Right now, I'm just going to take it a day at a time. I will write weekly, and meet the deadlines I have before me. I'm gonna take this advice from The Terminator to heart, only for writing -- not working out. ;)
So, here's to new years and new beginnings and new word counts. I've got a lot of writing I want to get done. I've got a lot of blogging I want to get done.
Join me, won't you?
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